by Meg Ripley
Inviting her touch was not the best idea. Her soft fingers cooled the fire constantly burning beneath his skin, bringing him a moment of peace that the ubiquitous air conditioning never produced. She soothed him and then it was over, and he was left with nothing but a deep longing. Where else could she touch him? What other relief could she bring him?
He shook his head. No, no, no. He wasn’t going to think about that, wasn’t going to allow those images—as delightful as they were—to fill his head. He had too many other things on his plate to be distracted by personal pleasure. Like Charles and Savannah Maelstrom, owners of the most powerful media conglomerate in the nation and the assholes trying to negotiate a hostile takeover of his own media interests. He only owned a handful of cable channels and three newspapers, but he wanted to keep them.
The trip to California would be tedious at best. They’d throw him a party and try to find a way to buy him, though their billions meant nothing to him and they owned nothing he coveted. Strictly speaking, April did not need to accompany him, but just being near her brought him a sense of peace. And he would need all the help he could get if he had to spend a long weekend with Savannah Maelstrom. The fact that the world hadn’t yet figured out her secret was a miracle to him.
It took him nearly thirty minutes to reach the club, and he resented every single second he spent confined in the car; if only he could stretch his wings, he would have been there in less than five. He would have soared over the skyscrapers and all of these little ants, scurrying around in their little ant lives, ignorant of their own insignificance. How terrified they would be to catch a glimpse of his immense power.
What would April do if she could see him? If he shed his human suit and allowed her a glimpse of his true self, would she run from him? Or would she take a step closer? Would she place her fingers on his brow? Would she place a kiss on his inhuman lips? Would she fear him or would she understand that she would never have anything to fear from him?
And how long would he be able to pretend that he didn’t long to show her?
****
April had imagined the cocktail party as a smallish event full of boring business talk. Why else would he want her to accompany him, if not to take notes and keep track of who said what? But once they arrived, she realized there was nothing small about the party, and there would be no business discussed that evening. For the briefest of moments, April considered that maybe he simply meant her to be his date, but that hope was dashed when the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen attached herself to Mads’ arm.
“Darling, it’s so good to see you again.” Her long red hair glowed under the chandeliers and her skin had the beautiful golden hue of the California sun.
“Savannah, dear, it’s been too long.”
“You haven’t called on me in, well, eons!”
“I know, dear, and I have been remiss. But business—”
She playfully hit his chest. “Oh, poo on your business. I don’t want to hear another word of it. That’s all Charles can talk about these days, and I’ll tell you, it’s perfectly boring.”
Mads chuckled good-naturedly and gestured at April. “This is April Bancroft, my personal assistant. April, this is Savannah Maelstrom.”
“Maelstrom? As in Maelstrom Media Group?”
Savannah laughed. “Of course, darling.”
“She is the queen of the empire. And a delectable one at that.” He bent low and kissed her hand, prompting a giggle from her.
“Oh, you old flirt.” Her eyes flickered over April and dismissed her just as quickly. “Have you met Angelica Preston, darling? She’s come in all the way from Europe.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure. Angelica?”
“Yes, you know, Miles Preston’s daughter? Come, she was dancing just a moment ago.”
And just like that, he was gone. April tried to track him through the crowd, but quickly lost sight of him and was unable to find him again, even when she checked the dance floor. She did spot the open bar and made a beeline to the only friendly face in the crowd—the smiling bartender. She ordered a champagne and turned to survey the party, feeling more comfortable with a glass in her hand.
When they arrived in the town car Mads had hired, she assumed they were at a hotel. A very large, opulent hotel. An impression that didn’t change once inside—the sweeping stairs, the enormous chandeliers, the fine marble, the gold leaf accents, and the plush, leather furniture were all things she’d only seen in hotels. Well, pictures of hotels. She’d never been so out of place, and she was certain everybody there knew she didn’t belong.
April looked down at her dress, inwardly cringing at the sight of her breasts and the swell of her belly encased in shiny, emerald green. It was not her favorite color, but what could she do? There was not an abundance of pretty dresses in her size 28. This one fit her well and covered enough of her breasts that she didn’t feel like she looked cheap. In fact, for a brief moment at the hotel, she actually felt surge of pride at the sight of her reflection. She’d had her hair, makeup, and nails done at the hotel’s spa—on Mads’ insistence and his dime—and the dress did look good on her. Mads’ smile when he saw her only reinforced her sense of pride. He had looked genuinely taken aback by her, and he’d offered her his arm, and it had all felt very real.
But now, she knew for a fact that she looked cheap. Who else here was wearing off the rack clothes?
God, why did he bring me here at all?
“Hello there. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”
April twitched and looked up into a pair of blue eyes so bright the seemed to glow. “Hi, I’m April. I’m Mads Durkheim’s assistant.”
“Assistant? Not his date?”
“No, um...just his assistant.”
“I’m Chester Maelstrom. And I’m sorry, that was terribly rude of me, I just wanted to know before I asked.”
“Before you ask what?”
“Can I have this dance?”
“Dance? I’m flattered, thank you, but I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Neither am I, to be honest. Can I buy you a drink?”
“It’s an open bar.”
“Wonderful, I’ll buy you two. What’s your poison?”
“Champagne.”
“So how long have you been working for old Mads?” Chester asked once he placed his order.
“Only eight weeks. It’s been...quite a learning experience. But he’s been very patient with me.”
“Oh, I imagine so.” With a flute in each hand, he nodded towards the patio door. Through it, she could see the yard lit with a thousand golden lights. “Care to join me on the lanai?”
“Yes, I think I could use a bit of fresh air.”
April surveyed the party before she fell into step beside Chester, and looked over her shoulder once more before stepping into the warm, California night. They were high enough in the Hollywood Hills that April could see a handful of stars, their light breaking through the pollution. The air was still and quiet, and Los Angeles lay before her like a field of broken diamonds, smashed emeralds, and crumbled rubies.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Chester asked.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“I always love coming up here. I don’t make it up here nearly as often as I like, though.”
“Is this your house?”
“My family’s. Well, my mother’s, to be specific.”
“Is your mother here tonight?”
“Of course, it’s her party. I believe you met her.”
“I met Savannah Maelstrom, is she your mother?”
“That’s her.”
April gaped at him. “No. Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
“But she...I mean...did she have you when she was ten?”
Chester laughed. “No, but I’m sure she’d love to hear you say that.”
“I guess money keeps you young,” April said under her breath. The woman did not look a day over thirty. Of course,
she probably had the finest plastic surgeons, not to mention personal chefs, trainers, and fashion consultants. She must have had a whole army employed full time to keep her looking so nubile. It was the only explanation that made sense, and yet, April couldn’t quite believe it. Even an army of professionals could not stop time.
“It certainly doesn’t hurt.”
“Mr. Maelstrom?” The server appeared out of nowhere, startling her with his sudden question. “Ms. Piper is searching for you.”
“Evelyn is here? Will you excuse me?”
“Yes.”
“Wait for me here?”
The dim light disguised the sudden flush of her cheeks. “I will.”
“Perfect. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Who is Evelyn Piper?” April asked as Chester stepped inside.
“Mr. Maelstrom’s fiancée.”
“Oh.” The stab of disappointment wasn’t anything new, but for a moment, she thought that Chester had actually been flirting with her. She downed the rest of her champagne in a single swallow and handed the server her glass. “Thank you. I think I’ll go for a walk.”
The further she got from the party, the better she felt. What if she went back to their hotel? It would be easy enough to call for the car, and Mads certainly wouldn’t miss her. She let her feet pick their own path as she mulled her options. She would never just get up and leave the office without speaking to him first, but this was different. Wasn’t it? It seemed like she wasn’t there in any sort of professional capacity, but then again, she didn’t want to risk angering him if he looked for her and she was nowhere to be found.
April found a trail lined with stones, winding around the house and up the hill. She couldn’t see where it led in the dark, but she heard the sound of running water and assumed it would take her to a fountain or maybe a small waterfall. As she approached, she heard the soft whisper of voices. She nearly turned around, but the unmistakable sound of her boss’s name drew her closer.
“The trap is set and ready to spring, don’t you worry.”
That was Chester speaking, she was sure of it, though she couldn’t see his face through the foliage. She ducked low, awkwardly tugging at the hem of her skirt.
“He’s already met Angelica?” That was a woman’s voice. Perhaps Evelyn Piper herself.
“They were dancing not five minutes ago.”
“And he has no idea?”
“None. He can sense her true age, but he doesn’t know her human age. I’ll be sure to keep his assistant out of the way until the deed is done.”
The woman laughed. “Is that who that woman is?”
“Of course. You didn’t think she was his date, did you? Even Mads has standards.”
The woman laughed again. “I wonder if he’ll keep up those standards once he’s in prison.” Her voice sounded closer now, and that was followed by the clicking of her stilettos on stone. April ducked down further, holding her breath as they passed by within a foot of her. She could reach out and touch them if she wanted to, and the thought of grabbing that bitch’s heel and sending her flying face first into the rocks brought a small smile to April’s lips.
As soon as they were gone, she fished the phone from her purse and called Mads. The phone rang five times and went to voicemail. On the second attempt, the phone went straight to voicemail. “No, no, no, you sonofabitch. Answer me.”
She texted: Important! Please call me, and followed that up with: Red alert. Please call me!
Neither prompted a response.
Her mind raced, searching for something, anything.
Wait for me here?
Of course. Chester. He was clearly the designated distraction. She hurried back down the trail, rounding the corner of the house just in time to see Chester reappear on the patio, with two fresh flutes of champagne.
“There you are. I thought you’d left me.”
“I just wanted to see if there was a pool.” She accepted the drink and touched his arm with her other hand. “Would you mind giving me the grand tour? I’ve never been in a house like this before and I’d love to have a look.”
He folded his arm around hers and turned towards the house. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
April searched futilely for Mads’ face as they passed through the party, but he wasn’t on the dance floor, or by the bar, or mingling with the other guests. Where would he have gone? And even if she did find him in time, would he believe her? Would he even understand what she heard? True age? Human age? It all sounded crazy to her, but caught up in the midst of the insanity was the one word that made perfect sense. Prison.
****
The music and voices faded until they were no more than a distant murmur in the cavernous house. An opportunity to flee her escort and search for Mads did not present itself—Chester kept a firm hand on her elbow as he guided her through the corridors, describing everything from the paintings on the walls to the pattern of the carpet in lush, exhaustive detail.
“What’s in here?” April asked, pointing at a random door just to make him switch gears.
“I believe that’s a guest bedroom.”
She stepped closer and looked up at him through her lashes. “Would you mind showing me?”
He hesitated, and she could see the war within him before he smiled and opened the door. “After you.”
She could tell it was big before he turned on the light, but she had no idea that it was more spacious than her apartment. She could live there. She could live there with a roommate and still be perfectly comfortable.
“Look at that bed; it’s as big as a boat!”
“It’s pretty roomy,” Chester agreed.
“Who stays here? Special guests like the president?”
“No, just friends of the family.”
“So, special guests like the president.” She turned and stepped closer, reaching up to touch the back of his neck. “Thank you, Chester, for giving me such a lovely tour.”
“The tour isn’t over yet,” he said, his voice dropping, his hand settling on the small of her back.
“Won’t everybody start to miss us?” April asked with a tilt of her head, hoping he would note the curve of her exposed neck, her ample breasts pressing against his chest.
He took the bait, lowering his mouth to drop a series of kisses from her ear to her shoulder. She knew his job was to distract her, but still, she couldn’t believe how easy this was. Was it always so easy to captivate a man? She’d always been too shy to try, but if she’d understood this power, her time in college would have gone very differently.
“They’re all too drunk to notice we’re gone.”
“What about Mads?”
Chester chuckled. “By now? He probably doesn’t even remember who you are.”
“But maybe he’s looking for me.”
“He’s not.” His mouth was growing bolder, his teeth scraping across her skin, cupping her breast with his other hand.
“Chester...stop...I’m serious.”
“Why? He isn’t looking for you.” He smirked, and it might have been that obnoxious smile that finally pushed her over the edge of patience. “Trust me.”
April reacted before he finished speaking, catching him off guard with a quick knee to his groin. He tried to hold on to her, but she wrested herself away, allowing him to collapse to the ground. She couldn’t quite believe that she dropped him so easily. “Where is he, Chester?”
“Fucking bitch—”
April drove her foot into his stomach, her pointed shoe pushing the air out of his body. Her heart thudded in her ears, cold sweat drenching her palms and the back of her neck. What the hell am I doing? I can’t take down the Maelstrom heir!
“Where is he, you asshole. I know you’ve got something planned, so what did you do with him?”
She expected him to curse at her again. She did not expect him to laugh—though a sharp kick to the ribs turned that laugh into a moan. “Kick the shit out of me, if you want t
o, but you’re too late. By tomorrow morning, the whole world will know that your boss fucked a fifteen-year-old girl.”
April gasped. “He would never.”
“He already has. Don’t worry, though. You won’t have to deal with the fallout.”
He wrapped his fingers around her ankle but she managed to step out of his hold before he could pull her down. She kicked off her shoes and bolted out of the room, running away from the party, towards a staircase that only went up. She ascended as fast as her dress would allow, knowing that he would be on her ass very soon. April could only hope that she made the right choice, running further from the party. She doubted she had any friends in that particular gathering, and besides that, they probably wanted to get Mads as far away from the crowd as possible.
A fifteen-year-old girl? She knew in her heart that he would never have sex with a child—and they must have known it, too. Chester himself had said he would only sense Angelica’s true age—which was what? What the hell did that even mean, anyway? She was missing something, but now wasn’t the time to try to figure it out.
April expected to find another long corridor full of art and doors, but the stairs took her to a wide, completely open space. It ran the length of the house and was entirely encased in glass. To her left was the view of the backyard and Los Angeles beyond; to her right, nothing but stars and mountains. The only light came from outside, but that was still more than enough to see that she was alone there. Alone and cornered.
She cast around for something blunt and heavy—something she could use as a weapon. Her shoes would have been perfect if she hadn’t left them behind with Chester, but it was a shame that she never learned how to run in high heels. There were no weapons, there was nowhere to hide, and nothing she could do.
April turned to go down, but Chester was already at the bottom of the stairs. He glared up at her with fierce eyes and a curl of smoke coming from each nostril.
Wait. What? Smoke? Is that smoke coming out of his face?
“Shouldn’t have done that, April. I would have been nice to you, you know. Made you feel special on your last night. But now?” He smiled at her and it took a second for her brain to register why that smile did not look right. “Now I’m just going to eat you.”